


Five Times her Heart Stopped

by crazyjane



Category: Hellsing
Genre: F/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyjane/pseuds/crazyjane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Integra Fairbrooks Wingate Hellsing lives a life of constant danger, and sometimes her heart has paid the price.</p>
<p>(Note: this story is based on the original TV anime, not the OVAs.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times her Heart Stopped

**Author's Note:**

> My one and only 'Five Things' fic, and my only (to date) anime fic. I'd really appreciate comments, please. :)

The woman on the bed fell back in a widening pool of her own blood. Her usually tawny skin was terribly pale, the veins clearly visible beneath skin that appeared nearly translucent. She breathed in great, hitching gasps, and though her face was twisted, she could no longer give voice to the pain that was tearing her apart. Hands grabbed her head, forced an oxygen mask over her face. Others forced her legs wide, working frantically to clear the blood away, as another convulsion shook her.

“Doctor, I can see the head!” 

“ _Push_ , milady!”

“She’s unconscious – blood pressure’s dropping fast!”

“We’re losing her!”

A gloved hand came down on her swollen stomach and pressed down with brutal force. Roused by the insult to her already abused body, the woman’s head lifted and her eyelids fluttered.

“Milady, you must push, it’s nearly over.”

“Raise her up.”

“Please, milady, the baby -”

Steel-blue eyes snapped open at that. Drawing her lips back from her teeth in a grimace, she fought to sit up. An arm slipped around her back to support her. She drew in a huge gulp of air, held her breath and pushed with the last of her strength. Hands caught the baby, born into the world on a gout of blood, and lifted it clear.

“Oxygen, quickly! Clear out the mouth!”

“There’s no pulse.”

Crowding around, massaging the tiny chest, feeding a tube between the blue lips to send air hissing into the lungs. 

“No pulse.”

“Keep going!”

“Wait –”

“I can hear the heartbeat!”

The tube was withdrawn. The baby, moving weakly, coughed once and let out a mewling cry. Eyes met, and silent sighs of relief were breathed. Deft hands wrapped the infant and turned to the bed.

“Milady, you have a baby girl.”

Turning, a single shake of the head. The woman had collapsed, and the tide of blood was only just slowing.

“No pulse.”

* * *

There was a flurry of movement, and a terrible tearing sound. A thin shriek was all that escaped the man as he slumped to the ground. _Oh God, his head_ …but there was no time to finish the thought as, all around her, the men who had only moments before levelled their guns at her were snatched off their feet, literally _ripped_ apart and tossed aside. She saw her uncle fall back against the wall, clutching at a ruined mass of flesh that had been his shoulder. The severed arm lay at her feet, a white knob of bone glimmering. One finger was still hooked in the trigger guard of the gun. The only sound now was a horrible sucking, gulping from the monster. _Get it. Move. Move! Don’t listen!_ She lunged for it, clamping her throat closed as her gorge rose. Shaking, she got to her feet and pulled the trigger, over and over.

The monster rocked back on his heels. In horror, she saw the wounds she had made were closing. He bared bloodstained teeth and was upon her, slamming her back into the wall. Her escape was blocked by his arms and body. He grated in a harsh, gleeful whisper, “Guns don’t work on me, little girl”, and leaned in so that the gun pressed against his eye. Fetid, blood-soaked breath blew over her. He grinned and made a sound of anticipation – and hunger. She could not look away, her fingers locked around the gun, feeling even the blood in her veins freezing in terror. She was locked into stillness. He chuckled, low in his throat. “Give up.”

Her heart gave a great lurch and she drew a sudden, gulping breath. “I’ll _never_ give up!” she spat, and pushed the gun hard against his face.

* * *

She was barely aware of the people moving around her, the sound of the heart monitor like a metronome, tying everything into a single rhythm. The mask pressed into the bridge of her nose, and a warm, drowsy feeling was stealing through her limbs even as she felt the poison in her veins spreading. She had only just summoned enough force of will to plunge the blade into her throat, but she knew she was losing the fight against the blood that had been dripped onto her tongue by the _baobhan sidhe_. Little by little, it was taking her over, and when she awoke she would be a freak. It would be the death-knell for the Hellsing organisation. They could not survive the loss of another leader; and this time, there would be no heir. She needed to hold onto herself, but she was dissolving, falling …

In the air ducts above the hallway, her hiding place, face-down against the dusty steel. Fourteen years old, and completely alone. When she closed her eyes, she could still see the blood flying from her father’s mouth as he coughed his last, despairing breath. So suddenly. She hadn’t even known he was ill. With all he’d shown her over the years, the dark underworld of London with its monsters and its dragon slayers, his insistence that she face the worst evils imaginable, still he’d sheltered her from the corruption that ravaged his own body – and so when he fell, she was defenceless, and she ran.

It was all hers now, the solemn duty, the trust to which all Hellsings bound themselves. The sacred charge. She had a responsibility. She sat up and squared her shoulders – and clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle the sob that rose up in her throat. Staring wide-eyed in the gloom, she tried to stop her tears. From below her, the sound of voices – “Well, find her, then! I haven’t come so far to let that brat take what’s rightfully mine!” – and footsteps hurrying away. Her father’s brother, the uncle who had resentfully worn the mantle of second in command, was moving finally to take power now that his only rival was a girl no longer sure of anything. _I can’t do this. Father, I’m sorry. It’s too much, I’ve failed you._ She sank down again, hopeless.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor stuttered, then settled into a single, ominous tone. From beneath the eyelids of the woman on the table, tears welled. Her body began to relax, her head tilting to one side so the tears ran down her face to the sheet under her. She was so tired – despair dragged at her, pulled her down to an oblivion that was so seductive, so easy …

The child flattened her back against the crudely marked sigils on the door, one hand on the handle, frozen in place, staring at the gun aimed squarely between her eyes. _It’s over. I’m going to die._

His voice, echoing, far away : “I know you don’t want to die tonight”.

The smallest frown creased the brow of the woman lying on the table, and the child tightened her fist around the handle, opened the door and threw herself into darkness.

* * *

Waking was an ascent into pain. 

Her body felt bruised all over, the cold of the stone floor biting deep into her back, and from the burning sensation in her right side, the stitches there had been torn open. Blood had soaked through her shirt so that the fabric stuck to her skin. Her arms were flung out, and she tried to bring her hands down to stop the bleeding. She cried out as twin spikes of pain flared through her arms. Turning her head to see what held her, nausea swamped her and she retched helplessly. When her vision cleared, she saw that she was pinned down by long, barbed spears driven through the flesh of her wrists and stuck deep into the floor. _He’s crucified me_ , she thought with black humour. Carefully raising her head, she was able to make out the angular form of the vampire standing near the window. His skin glowed with sigils and he held out his arms, crying out words that she recognised as the most debased of summoning spells. What is he doing? Her mind automatically translated his speech, and a chill went through her.

“Set? You’re not bringing that demon _here_?” she gasped. He turned and approached her.

“I was born to bring ruin to all that is.” Leering, he stood above her for a moment as she struggled, then lowered himself until he was lying on top of her. She craned her neck as far from his as possible, snarling her defiance even as he pressed his body against hers. It only served to excite him further. “How marvellous you are,” he gloated. I’m going to violate every part of your being. I will consume every last part of your body and soul, leaving you in ruins.” 

She shrank from him, but her voice was level as she intoned, “Situation A. Unlock limited release control system to level one. Activate the Cromwell initiative.” Her tone became stronger as she added, “Your master, Hellsing, commands it.” She stared defiantly up at the vampire, waiting for the air to become tinged with the red glow of Alucard’s sigil. A confident smile stretched her mouth. _Checkmate, you disgusting freak._

Nothing.

The first stirrings of real panic began. She fought them down, rationalising wildly. _He will answer, he is coming for me, he always comes for me._

“Your servant has long since been destroyed,” he laughed. “Now it is time for you to know your death.” He leaned down and bit through the bandages, worrying at the wound in her neck. She arched up under him, gritting her teeth. He drew back. “I want you to scream.” 

She would not give him the satisfaction. Directing every scrap of her will at the command, she shouted, “Acknowledge my approval!” There was no response. Unable to control her fear any longer, she screamed, “ _Alucard_!” His name reverberated throughout the cavernous rooms of the church and fell away into silence. The realisation hit her like a blow, leaving only an awful, sick weakness. He was gone. _Gone_ , and her heart stilled in her chest.

In that moment, anguished, she felt the vampire wrench her blood from the neck wound and swallow it greedily. Raising his arms, he let loose a bolt of power that shattered the dome of the cathedral, and she felt the demon enter the world. In the distance, she could hear the first explosions, and the screams. Then, in her mind, a quiet voice, and she shuddered with hope, and a relief so great it threatened to shatter her completely even as she breathed again.

“Limited release approval is confirmed.” Quietly, she began to laugh.

* * *

Suddenly he had her pinned against the wall, crushing his body against hers, knocking the breath out of her. She froze as he swept her hair to one side and lowered his head. For a long moment neither of them moved, his lips just grazing the skin of her throat, her eyes staring wide over his shoulder. A shudder passed through him, and he drove his teeth into her with vicious speed. She screamed as he tore through skin, ripped open the vein and began to drink. Her hands came up of their own accord and began to beat against him, pushing at his head. _No, no, no, no, no_ \- But she had given him his orders.

He growled and captured both her hands in his, holding her against the wall with the pressure of his body. The rough stones cut into her back and bruised her spine. No matter how she struggled, she could not free herself. His throat muscles worked and she felt a dreadful pulling sensation as he sucked, and swallowed her blood. The pain was incredible, silver and exquisite. She was transfixed, straining and twisting helplessly, heart hammering in her chest, feeling his skin grow warm with her stolen life, feeling his desire for her rising even as his hunger ebbed.

Growing weaker now, sagging in his grip, and she was sliding down the wall, his arms coming around her to keep her pulled close. Her head fell back, hands trailing limply on the floor. Unbelievably, twining in and around the pain came a kind of swooning arousal. He was killing her, she knew it, and she could only moan and arch against him as waves of pleasure and agony swept through her, carrying her further away from herself, tears spilling down her face.

A crushing weight seemed to settle on her chest; she struggled to draw breath against it, but her labouring heart could not give her enough strength. As though from a great distance, she felt his teeth withdrawing from her throat, slowly, reluctantly. She was utterly empty, a husk in his arms. Through dimming, blurring vision, she saw him bring his face close to hers, capturing her with his scarlet gaze. Deliberately, he bit down on his own lip, and her eyes were drawn to the blood that welled there.

Her eyes slipped closed as he covered her mouth with his. As the first taste of him flowed along her veins, she felt her heart falter … slow … and, finally, stop.


End file.
